Somewhere buried in a box that is gathering dust in a far corner shelf of a storage area is a handwritten speech entitled, Rocky Raccoon.
That speech was my first break-out effort in the big kid category that came after the younger grade division of poems in school oratorical competitions.
As a poetic contestant, it was simply a matter of learning a few rhyming lines and repeating them before a crowd of adoring family members in our one-room school house. At that age group there were no winners named to move on to the next level. We simply dressed in our best and managed to mumble our way through the poem, while looking cute and adorable. Loud cheers most likely ensued at the conclusion of each poem.
But then along came Grades 3, 4 and 5 and more mature levels of responsibility. At this age we were mandated to enter the oratory contest with an original speech on a topic of our own choice. I recall talking about my cat who drowned in the cistern, my dog who stole clothes off the clothesline and hid them in the coal chute — and Rocky Raccoon. I have no idea why I talked about a raccoon nor how it became called Rocky, but I do recall being selected that year to speak-off against kids from other schools.
My Rocky speech was masterfully presented (in my opinion) but a red-headed girl from another school delivered her speech on another animal, Duncan the Donkey, and she won, beating out all of us in that age group. She was gracious in her win and eventually we became lifelong friends.
Other oratory contests followed right through to Grade 12 and I won some, lost some and through it all learned the basics of public speaking and putting together a story or narrative that shouldn’t put an audience to sleep. From the goaltender of the Moose Jaw Canucks to the organization of the Saskatchewan Junior Hockey League to the health hazards of smoking —my speeches ran the gamut.
We learned to enunciate clearly so we could be heard at the back of the room without any electronic assistance. We learned to look our audience in the eye to build a rapport — and to gauge whether our message was being received. We learned stage presence, moving slightly to left or right so as to make all sides of the room feel included in the presentation. We couldn’t slouch nor could we run off the stage before properly thanking our audience for being attentive. And we had to have our speeches memorized, without any reliance on written prompts.
All of these lessons came back recently while helping to judge a regional 4-H speech contest. While the rules of engagement have been modified to fit the lifestyles of today, one thing hadn’t changed for the youngest age group: pets were popular topics, going along with the maxim of talking about something familiar. There was Puppies, Lucky the Dog, and Sweetie Pie the cat, who unfortunately came to a deadly end.
And another rule that hadn’t changed: the judges then were and now are still considered “honourable.”
I do wonder how Rocky Raccoon and Duncan Donkey would stack up against Lucky and Sweetie Pie when considered by honourable judges.
Joyce Walter can be reached at ronjoy@sasktel.net
